The Wellber Council
by sporkofperil
Summary: Hermione Granger uncovers an ancient spell that can aid her in her quest to ease a confession from suspect Death Eater Draco Malfoy. Read on to find out.
1. The Unexpected Mission

**A.N. My newest little Harry Potter series! To those waiting for my Gokusen 3 update, please be patient with me!**

**This story is little bit twisted. Forgive my insane imagination.**

**This is dedicated to all those Harry Potter fans that never lets the fanfiction flame grow old. **

**blaine36**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. So don't sue.**

**Notes: AU, picking up from end of Order of the Phoenix and borrowing some ideas from HBP. I tried to make the characters canon, except from my OC, Alexis Davenport. I'm a complete canon supporter, which means I actually read the Harry Potter Lexicon before jumping headfirst into fanfiction writing, so that readers won't get confused or whatnot. I hope you enjoy!**

**Summary: One of the Ministry of Magic's best-kept secrets is the elite Wellber Council, an organization comprised of talented, skilled and dangerous wizards that come as a cross between an Auror and an Unspeakable, doing confidential and potentially fatal missions that the other ministry departments cannot accomplish. Hermione Granger secretly applies for a rookie position and was given a mission to prove her worth: To ease a complete and justifiable confession from suspect Death Eater Draco Abraxas Malfoy.**

--

Chapter 1 – The Unexpected Mission

A loud noise woke up Hermione Granger from her sleep. She rubbed her eyes and groaned, not quite ready to acknowledge the disturbance. However, the incessant tapping on her window is much too annoying to ignore.

"Alright, alright, I'm waking up..." She sat up and blinked sleepily at the window, trying to process whatever is making the god-awful noise. There, outside the window, was a brown tawny owl determinedly trying to make its way into Hermione's room.

"...An owl?" Hermione could not quite figure why somebody's writing to her in the middle of the night. She groggily pulled the blankets from her body and stepped out of the bed onto the carpeted floor, padding across the room to open the window and let the owl in.

The bird swooped in, dropping an envelope on Hermione's desk in the process. It perched on the foot of her bed, clicking its beak impatiently.

Hermione's brow furrowed at the owl, wondering who had sent it to her. She picked the envelope from the desk, reading the elegant scrawl on the back of the paper.

_To Miss Hermione Granger_

There was nothing else written there. She unsealed the envelope and opened it, taking out the folded piece of parchment inside.

She unfolded it, and gazed at the medium-length missive that she was supposed to read. She had an urge to just put the parchment aside and read it tomorrow when she's a lot more awake, but surely there was something important in this letter that made the sender write it in the middle of the night, right?

So, she sighed and began reading the message.

_To Miss Hermione Granger,_

_I am terribly sorry to bother you in the middle of the night, but there is something of UTMOST importance that needs your attention as soon as possible. It concerns your application to the Wellber Council._

_I can not specify the details of the case in this letter, so it would be better if we meet in the Leaky Cauldron tomorrow afternoon, and discuss the problem over tea. I trust that you realize the urgency of the situation, since I would not be writing you in the dead of the night if it is just a trivial matter._

_Please send back a letter of acknowledgement with the owl, informing me if you will be able to make it to Leaky Cauldron tomorrow. I need it as soon as possible._

_I very much hope for your response._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore._

Hermione's eyebrows shot up, sleepiness forgotten, when she registered the names _Wellber Council _and _Albus Dumbledore _in the letter. For one thing, it was Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and greatest wizard of all time, that was writing to her. For another, she did not actually expect that Dumbledore would know of her application to the Wellber Council. That information she had intended to be confidential, to be known only to herself. However, it seems that Dumbledore had already gotten a hold of it and is going to discuss the details of her qualifications tomorrow at Leaky Cauldron.

_Why would he talk about the Wellber Council with me? What does he have to do with it? _Rubbing her head with her hand, she glanced at the owl that was staring back at her, waiting for the response that Dumbledore had requested. Hermione ran a hand through her hair, sighed, and grabbed a quill and parchment, sitting down on her desk and beginning to write her response.

_To Professor Dumbledore,_

_I understand the urgency of the situation. Yes sir, I will be able to make it tomorrow. Thank you for informing me about this._

_Sincerely,_

_Hermione Granger_

She put the parchment in a new, clean envelope and gave it to the owl. The owl clasped the letter between its beak and soared out of the window into the cool midnight air.

Hermione watched the bird slowly disappear into the night, and heaved a sigh. She was unsure of how things will go tomorrow. This, after all, concerns the Wellber Council and Dumbledore's views regarding it. One could not be quite sure of how things will turn out.

She shook her head, and made to go back to her slumber. _Oh, well, let tomorrow worry for itself. It's not like you can do much. _She climbed back to her bed and pulled the blanket over her pyjama-clad body. She let herself slowly drift off to sleep, although not without a sense of apprehension for the day that awaits.

--

Muggle London is never as crowded as Diagon Alley, and for Hermione that was a relief. Her misgivings about this meeting is quite enough to for her list of concerns for the day without the annoying discomfort of a crowd adding to it. Stuffing her hand in her pocket, which contained her wand, she walked briskly across the streets toward the Leaky Cauldron, the famous inn that contained the wall that separates the Muggle world from the Magical society.

She walked inside and saw Tom the Landlord attending to the various customers' needs, his hunchbacked physique making its way back and forth through the room. She approached him, and tapped his shoulder lightly.

"Um. Hi, Tom," she greeted him with a smile as he turned around to face her. His usually attentive face changed into a serious one when he recognized who she was, and nodded, eyebrows furrowing.

"I suppose you're here for an appointment?" He asked, and Hermione nodded. "I thought so. Your room is upstairs. Let me accompany you to it." He led her across the room, up the stairs and into a corridor. They walked past doors until they reached one near the end of the hall. Tom knocked on the door.

"Come in," said the voice of Albus Dumbledore. Tom gestured at Hermione and opened the door, letting her and himself in.

"Hermione Granger is here, Professor," Tom announced as he and Hermione walked in.

"Ah, Miss Granger, thank you for gracing us with your presence," said Dumbledore, smiling at her as he stood up from one of the plush chairs. Beside him was a tall, dark-haired, handsome gentleman wearing the traditional ministry robes and looking a bit formidable.

Hermione smiled back at Dumbledore and nodded politely at the man beside him, who nodded back. Tom looked at them and cleared his throat.

"Is there anything else you need, Professor?" He asked. Dumbledore shook his head.

"Aside from the tea that is arriving shortly, I don't think we need anything else. Thank you, Tom, you may leave us now." Tom bowed respectfully and left the room, closing it silently behind him.

Hermione was left standing there in the middle of the room, facing the Hogwarts Headmaster and an unknown yet obviously powerful man. She shifted uneasily in her stance, and fiddled with the wand inside her pocket.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Now, Miss Granger, I suppose you want me to explain why I had summoned you here in Leaky Cauldron to talk about an application that is supposed to be extremely confidential?" Hermione's eyebrows raised at his question, and she nodded. Her thoughts exactly.

"Well, first, I must introduce to you this wonderful man beside me." He gestured to the dark-haired guy who was studying Hermione. "His name is Alexis Davenport. He is the head of the Department of Mysteries, the Chief Unspeakable."

Hermione's eyes widened. The man was obviously of utmost importance, and _of course _he had something to do with the Wellber Council. However, why is he here to talk to her about it? What's wrong?

She started. "P—pleased to meet you, sir," she said courteously, not forgetting her manners.

"Ah, yes. Alexis, this is Miss Hermione Granger, a student from Hogwarts and one of the applicants for the Wellber Council."

He nodded at her again, still studying her. "The pleasure is mine."

"Well, since we're done with the introductions, why don't we all take a seat? The tea is bound to arrive just about now. Ah, there it is!" He gestured cheerily at the tray of tea and tarts that appeared on the table. He began pouring the hot liquid into cups, and offering them to his companions. Alexis refused politely while Hermione accepted her share, saying a 'thank you' in turn.

"Um, Professor," she began tentatively as she sipped her tea. "I was wondering... Why did you ask for me to come here?"

"Oh, of course, I was going to explain that to you. Well, I summoned you here because I want to talk to you about the Wellber Council, and your application's recent progress." Hermione nodded at him, understanding. Of course her application was confidential, but it made sense that the Council would notify him about it. She was his student, after all. "I must admit, at first I had been surprised to learn that you had filed an application to Wellber, but I was impressed too. You are a very brave woman, Miss Granger." He smiled at her, and Hermione blushed.

"Th—thank you, Professor," she replied to his compliment.

"I did not intend to bother you about your case, since it is obviously not my business to meddle with your out-of-school affairs, but Alexis here came to my office and inform me of an important issue that needed to be taken care of. He also brought upon your application, informing me of your potential to be one of the Council members."

Hermione's eyes lit up at that. Potential? That means she has a good chance of getting accepted into the council!

"Y—you mean, sir..."

"Yes, Miss Granger, you have passed most of the Council's standard qualifications for a starting member." It was Alexis that spoke this time. "Personally, I was surprised at first when I found out that you were the only one to apply from Hogwarts. Apparently you are the only one who knows about the council and has the guts to want to join it. You are fitting for the most part, Miss Granger. You are said to be the brightest witch of your age, a hardworking student, a precise Potion brewer, and a very talented Dueller. In addition to that, I had came to know that you are a muggle-born, which means you know a lot of things about this world that most wizards don't, which can be very useful for the Council. Everyone is highly expectant of your acceptance and initiation into the Wellber Council after graduation, and I must admit, I am one of those who put their best foot forward in recommending you to our list of rookies. You are proving to be highly invaluable and experienced, Miss Granger. The Wellber Council will be delighted to accept you in their midst."

Hermione was practically clutching her cup in earnest. "I was... I was accepted?" Was all she managed to say.

Alexis smiled at her, leaning forward on his seat. "Everyone is saying that you're basically in the Council now, Miss Granger, but standard tradition, of course, demands that you undergo a final examination first before you become a fully initiated Council member. You have to prove yourself one more time, Miss Granger, so that you can step into the elite ranks of Wellber after you leave Hogwarts on your graduation."

Hermione expected as much. Of course they would not just let her in without proving her worth. She smiled back at Alexis. "I understand that, sir. I am very much willing to undergo the final examination and try to prove my worth to become a Wellber Council member."

"Indeed, you are, Miss Granger, which is why I wrote you a letter last night," said Dumbledore. "The Wellber Council has already decided your final examination, and we are to give it to you now."

Hermione put her cup down on the table and focused her full attention on the two men. "I will do my best to accomplish this exam, sirs," she said.

And thus, Dumbledore began his mission briefing.

--

**REVIEW PLEASE!**


	2. The Most Troublesome Charge

**A.N. The next chapter up and running. Do me a favor and please be patient with the story, even if it may seem a bit too dragging. Thankies!**

**blaine36**

--

Chapter 2 – The Most Troublesome Charge

Five cups of strong tea later, Hermione was finally out of Leaky Cauldron and was staggering her way across muggle London. In her hands she clutched a copy of the mission briefing Dumbledore had blessed her with. It was rapidly getting crumpled by the way she was holding on to it tightly.

"Merlin, tell me! Why, of all people, do I have to deal with Draco friggin' Malfoy!?" She heaved a sigh and sat down heavily on a bench near the park. She cradled her head with one hand, then decided to open the envelope and study the mission again. She pulled out the parchment inside and stared at the picture of Draco Malfoy who was staring back at her with a look of pure boredom etched on his face. It blinked after every few seconds, then, after a couple of minutes, it yawned.

"You look like an arse, Malfoy," she commented snidely at the portrait. It raised its eyebrows, brought up a hand and showed her the finger. Snarling, Hermione shoved the picture back into the envelope and took out the mission briefing instead.

_CONFIDENTIAL_

_The Most Noble Wellber Council of Great Britain_

_Member Initiation Department_

_To Miss Hermione Granger of the Gryffindor House, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_-Regarding the Initiation Exam-_

_Mission:_

_To ease a valid, justifiable confession out of suspect Death Eater Draco Abraxas Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy and Heir to the Malfoy bloodline._

_Limits:_

_Use whatever force is necessary, but be sure to keep within the legal bounds of Magical Law. Do not use extreme torture and moral defilation. Reports of inhumane and unjustified treatment will result in disqualification and a probationary sentence in Azkaban._

_Conveniences:_

_Potential Rookie can ask for help from her Supervising Officer. However, there are limits to assistance, and the Rookie will have to accomplish the case on her own._

_Requirements:_

_A collection of evidences (photographs, recorded confessions, notable articles, etc.) will have to be presented at the Council Trial once the Rookie has accomplished the mission._

_Notes:_

_Mission is TOP SECRET and is not to be regarded to anyone else except the supervising officer and involved Wellber Council members. Breach of secrecy will result in immediate disqualification._

_Report to supervising officer once mission is done. Bring all required paperwork and evidences to prepare for upcoming Council Trials._

_Supervising Officer:_

_Alexis Brian Davenport, Order of Merlin, First Class, Chief Unspeakable to the Department of Mysteries, most notable Wellber Council member and Rookie Initiation Supervisory Department Member_

_Good luck and Godspeed. We have our faith in you._

Hermione wondered if the Wellber Council always regarded matters with extreme formalities, directness and efficiency. She was not against it, though. It was just that she was annoyed with her assignment. Why did she have to gauge a confession out of Malfoy, of all the things she could do?

_Oh well, it could've been worse,_ Hermione tried to console herself, stuffing the parchment back into the envelope. _You might've ended up having to spy on the deadly Giant Wars at the mountainside, or patrolling the prisoner escape routes in Azkaban._

She gave an involuntary shudder at these imaginary predicaments. There was a part of her that was kind of thankful for having an assignment that still gave her a chance to continue her studies in Hogwarts like a normal individual.

_Albeit a normal individual playing good cop-bad cop on Draco Malfoy and picking up trash after him on the sly. You're going to become a stalker, Hermione._

She shuddered again, and sighed.

She'd do anything to get into Wellber, but, hey, she's allowed to complain, right?

--

Two weeks later and Dumbledore had found Hermione at the Hogwarts Library, face buried in a book and quill scratching away. With her current predicament, Dumbledore had allowed Hermione to have access to the library even during summer break. He was impressed at the extreme effort his student was putting into her mission, but he was also concerned at the long hours she was putting in the library, with minimal breaks for rest, hygiene and food.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore tapped her on the shoulder and smiled down at her as she glanced up at him through baggy, sleep-deprived eyes. "Oh dear, you look quite devastating!" He could not help but say it in her face. She might need someone to tell her the truth eventually.

"Oh," Hermione rubbed at her eyes and looked down. "I'm sorry, Professor. It's just that I was so engrossed in my research that I had less and less time for rest. I really did not mean it to be like this…"

"Do try to relax, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "You have the whole year ahead of you. Do not let panic take over your life."

"I'm so sorry, Professor," she replied. Dumbledore noticed that Hermione was actually trembling from lack of sleep and some nerve attacks. He straightened his glasses and cleared his throat.

"Miss Granger, why don't you join me this afternoon for some lunch?" Dumbledore asked the student. Hermione looked up at him, surprised. "You look like you need a good meal."

"I… Well, thank you very much, Professor. I will join you," said Hermione, and she smiled tiredly at him. Dumbledore nodded and his eyes twinkled.

"Good! Please visit my office around lunchtime, Miss Granger. I will have the kitchens prepare something good for us." He smiled cheerily at her before walking away and disappearing behind the double doors of the library.

Hermione watched him go away before cradling her head in her hands and sighing in frustration and exhaustion. _Oh Merlin, am I that obsessed with this mission? But I can't help it! I need to find the right spell so I can begin the mission by start of the term!_

She closed the huge tome she was reading with a loud _thud! _and stood up, slightly swaying as the her vision blurred and her head spun at the sudden movement. Shaking her head, She gathered the books and began the laborious task of putting them back on their shelves all over the library.

--

"Fizzing Whizbees!"

The gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office jumped aside to let Hermione pass. She climbed up to the spinning stairs that took her to the upper room which contained the Headmaster and their highly-anticipated lunch.

Slightly dizzy with the spinning, Hermione wobbled from the stairs to the door, and knocked.

"Come in," said Dumbledore, his cheerful voice eminent.

Hermione pushed the door open and smiled when she was greeted by a rather cozy ensemble that took most of Dumbledore's reception area. A wooden table was placed in the middle, with two sets of dining wares on it, two chairs and glass of Pumpkin Juice, a plate of Shepherd's Pie, kippers, roast turkey and dressed salad in the middle. Hearing her stomach growl, she all but rushed over to the table, then, realizing her manners, blushed a deep red and muttered a mixed greeting and apology to her headmaster.

"It's okay, Miss Granger," chuckled Dumbledore. "I know how hungry you must be, with all that work you busy yourself with. It's a wonder you manage to stay up at all." He gestured her to a seat, and sat from across her when she relaxed into it.

"I had the house elves prepare suitable lunch meal for the both of us," said Dumbledore, smiling at her. "I think we both need the nutrition, especially you."

"I agree, Professor," said Hermione. "Thank you for inviting me for lunch. It's an honour to dine with you."

"I feel honoured too, to dine with a future Wellber Council member such as yourself," said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling cheerily. "If I'm not too careful, you'll be my equal in ranks in just a few years."

Hermione chuckled at that, but she did not look too hopeful. "I wish, Professor, but that might just not happen." She sighed, and took a sip of the Pumpkin juice that Dumbledore poured her.

Dumbledore looked positively concerned, bless him. "Why so, Miss Granger? Everyone knows that you are the brightest witch of your age. Why do you think you won't make it?"

"Well, I can't just find the right information that can help me start with my mission," said Hermione, beginning to eat her Shepherd's Pie once Dumbledore had prompted her to do so. "I have been working in the library for more than a week now, but all the books, even in the Restricted Section, could not bring to me the spell that I'm looking for."

Her headmaster was curious. "A spell? What is this particular spell that you're looking for?"

Hermione looked sheepish. "It's kind of a… weird spell, Professor…" she began, fiddling with the hem of her skirt.

"Yes…?" Dumbledore wiped his mouth with a napkin and gazed good-naturedly at her, waiting for her to continue.

"Um, well… I kind of need a… gender reversal spell…" Hermione had muttered the last three words in almost an inaudible whisper, but Dumbledore had heard her. His eyes twinkled as he heard the information, and he laughed.

"No need to be ashamed of it, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore. "I must say, it's very brave of you to attempt at such a spell. However, I'm curious. Why do you need such a spell?"

Hermione had blushed when she confessed her research project to her good-natured headmaster. She chuckled nervously. "I… I thought that Malfoy would not confess to me if he actually thought that I'm Hermione Granger. Disguises is the obvious solution, so I first thought a good Polyjuice Potion would work, and I'd disguise myself as probably Theodore Nott to gain information. However, there's this new law in the Ministry that bans civilian use of the Polyjuice potion. I asked Sir Davenport if I could be an exception, but he said that I must follow within bounds of the Ministry law, so I rejected the idea. I looked in human transfiguration spells, and I found some face-altering charms, but it would not make me look quite like any Slytherin, and I realized that I still retain some extremely obvious parts of my real self. I suddenly had the idea of creating a new persona, so I thought that I'd disguise myself as an exchange student in Slytherin, and I thought that maybe if I was a guy, Malfoy would be more inclined to tell me about his current predicaments. There was no other human-altering spell without extremely troublesome side-effects that I could find, so I had this notion of finding a really good gender-alteration spell. I'd become a full fledged boy, and change genders at will. That way I can earn Malfoy's trust, but also be Hermione Granger when I'm not after him." She finished her lengthy narrative and looked at Dumbledore, who was gazing back thoughtfully at her. She waited a few minutes for him to reply, then he finally spoke.

"I think you have a good idea, Miss Granger," remarked Dumbledore, still looking thoughtful. "It's useful to able to change personas at will, but you'll have to be good at putting up an act. Also, when you alter your gender, you do not fully change your persona, but just be a male equivalent of yourself. Think of it as having a twin brother."

Hermione nodded at this. "I had thought of that, professor, so I decided to use some human transfiguration after I use the gender-alteration spell. That way I might be able to tweak my appearance a bit, with complete resistance to _Finite Incantatem, _and nobody will be able to connect me to Hermione Granger. I'll be a whole new person."

"It might be troublesome," said Dumbledore. "If you pretend to be someone else and try to get closer to Draco Malfoy, you might not have the time to be Hermione Granger at all. You'll lose time for your studies and your own friends. Are you willing to go that far for Wellber Council?"

"I am a master of my own time, Professor," said Hermione. "I won't use a time-turner, but I am still good at managing my life. I won't mess things up with my alternate persona. It will be the perfect disguise." She smiled at him, but her face fell after a while, and she sighed. "However, I still don't have an inkling about what spell to use. It may be very complicated and ancient. No book in the library seems to deal with it."

The headmaster looked like he was thinking deeply. After a few minutes, he cleared his throat and stood up from the chair. Hermione watched him go to his private bookshelf. He ran a hand on the titles stacked side-by-side in the shelf, and pulled one out. He opened it and thumbed through the pages, his blue eyes focused and thoughtful. He stopped on a page, read it, and closed a book with a soft _thump. _He went back to the table where Hermione is sitting, and handed the book over to her.

"W—what book is this, Professor?" Hermione asked, gazing at the book in a mixture of puzzlement and delight.

"It's a documentation of hidden ancient magic, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, resuming his meal. "I had acquired it some time ago in a trip to Prague. It contains some very old spells, simple and complex, that has not reached the bounds of Ministry law just yet. I believe that the magic you require is included in the documentations."

Her eyes widening, Hermione immediately opened the book and scanned it, her gaze stopping on a particular article about _Reverso Mortalis, _an ancient, complex spell that turns the caster into his opposite gender equivalent. It was in Ancient Runes, but Hermione knew enough of the language to translate the passage into something readable, although not so thorough. She drank in the information with gusto, and after sufficiently understanding the spell's essentials, tore her eyes from the book to gaze gratefully at her headmaster.

"Professor," she breathed. "Thank you so much!"

Dumbledore had angled his head to the side and was smiling at her, his eyes twinkling. "That's the least I could do for you, Miss Granger," he said. "You deserve to be in Wellber Council, after all."

--

**REVIEW PLEASE!**


	3. Reverso Mortalis

**A.N. Now for chapter 3! Are you liking the story so far? Please do tell!**

**blaine36**

--

Chapter 3 – Reverso Mortalis

The lunch meeting with Dumbledore had brought upon a new light on Hermione's mission. She went back to her house feeling light and exuberant, eager to familiarize herself more with the spell. She locked herself in her room, book in tow, and opened it to the _Reverso Mortalis _article. Practicing the wand-movement patterns carefully, she tried to build up her energy and concentration. Once she felt she had meditated enough, she stood in front of her full-sized mirror and pronounced the incantation in a clear, powerful voice.

"_Reverso Mortalis!"_

Thankfully, her years of experience in complicated magic and her obvious affinity in Transfiguration aided Hermione in doing the spell without negative ramifications. She felt a weird, implacable sensation coursing through her whole body. Some parts of her seemed to be shrinking while the others seemed to be growing. There was a powerful tingling in her bones, and Hermione had to steel herself to avoid collapsing on the floor in exhaustion. She closed her eyes, but saw a glow emit from her body even through her eyelids. Then, after a few minutes, it all stopped.

Breathing heavily, Hermione was extremely hesitant to open her eyes. She feared to see the results of her rendition of the _Reverso Mortalis _spell. However, she knew she had to face it. Taking a few more deep breaths, she slowly opened her eyes and gazed at the mirror, steeling herself for her new appearance.

What greeted her almost took her breath away in an instant.

There, staring back at her in the long, wide mirror, with a look of mixed fear and shock on his face, was, unmistakeably, a man.

A man looking like he's nothing more than the male version of herself.

Hermione almost fainted clean away.

--

Her new appearance seemed to take a lot of getting used to. Hermione was not a pervert, but she was more than curious of the utterly unfamiliar functions of her newly acquired body. Her nervousness had had her peeing in the toilet bowl, and at first she was utterly confused on how to, well, pee standing up. It had cost her a rather messy bathroom and a soiled pair of trousers.

She took some minutes to wind down, relax, and accustom herself to her new physique. She was still perfectly Hermione, but of course it was amazingly different to be a guy version of yourself. When you try to speak, your voice comes out in rather lower octaves than what you're used to hearing from yourself. There was that unmistakeably foreign _thing _that was stuck on your nether regions (Hermione knew all about its functions but was still too embarrassed to acknowledge it), and of course it felt weird to have no boobs. These were shallow and trivial stuff, but were unsettling all the same.

She took a few breaths and positioned herself in front of her mirror again, examining the modifications in her appearance with a calmer disposition. Apparently, a male Hermione Granger isn't much different from the female one. She was disappointed to see that even though she had reversed genders, she still looked as bookish and studious as ever.

Her height was almost virtually the same as it was when she was her old female self. She had only grown an inch or two taller, and it did not look like it made much of a difference at all. Her long, wavy brown hair that went past her shoulders and ended a few inches short of her waist had shrunk back to just reach the nape of her just slightly thicker, slightly muscular neck. Her shoulders were a bit broader and stronger, though more for justification of her male persona rather than a proof of a muscular physique. Her arms were a bit like the same, though it was a bit manlier than what she had when she was her female persona. It kind of miffed her that being a guy did not change her rather unimposing appearance at all. She looked kind of wimpy for a guy, and when she hitched her shirt up she revealed a flat but rather weak torso, with nonexistent abs and a chest that looked like it will be crushed into bits if ever somebody hit it with their fist. She did not dare to examine past her navel, for she still could not bare to look at her new, if rather unimpressive (she had seen it when she tried to take a piss), piece of equipment. However, she was sure that it matched her upper body all the same.

She sighed at her appearance with a touch of annoyance, sadness and relief. She realized that it was kind of better thinking that she looked better as a girl than as a guy. Imagine how insulting it would've been if she turned out to be better releasing male pheromones than being female. However, this did not help her cause. She had a reason why she experimented with the gender reversal spell, and it was highly doubtful that Malfoy would ever want to fraternize with a wimpy guy like her, Slytherin or not.

If there was any consolation, though, Hermione thought as she looked in the mirror, that would've been the exquisitely handsome face that came with her rather effeminate package. Being a girl in real life made it sure that her male persona retained her really long eyelashes and large doe eyes that sparkled and looked almost perpetually imploring. Her jaw line was a bit thicker than her normal, but it just made her slightly manlier and suited her pretty-boy facial features all the same. She looked like one of Botticelli's young boy angels, if she do say so herself. With the rather graceful and frail physique and her heavenly features, she was at least certain that the girls of the Hogwarts population will be intrigued with him enough to border on affection. She will be certain to use that to her advantage.

She shook these trivial thoughts aside and picked up her wand, drawing herself closer to the mirror so that she could have a better look. She had to modify a few things about her face if she wanted to be completely incomparable from her own girl self.

"Time to start changing the details," she muttered in that low, boyish voice that still spooked her out. Eyebrows furrowing, she tried to focus on the incantations regarding Transfiguration that she had researched from Hogwarts.

She pronounced the spell that changed the colour of her pupils from a rich chocolate brown to, say, a rather piercing blue shade. She smiled at the change, and decided that it gave her male persona more attitude and distinction. She lengthened the bridge of her nose a bit, heightened her cheekbones and adjusted the shape of her lips. She contemplated her jaw line a bit, then modified it to make it more suitable to her slightly muscular physique, making it thicker and more pronounced. She then stepped back and viewed her visage with a critical eye. It seemed better, and her newly acquired striking blue eyes threw off any suspicions of her resemblance to her original female persona. In fact, as Hermione examined her face more and more, she was sure that she'd be able to pass of as a real guy and not as any botched magical version of herself. Draco Malfoy, beware!

--

Albus Dumbledore's twinkling eyes was enough to cap off Hermione's perfect, happy, accomplished mood. He clapped merrily as she turned back to herself after dazzling him with her alter-ego transfiguration spell. Alexis Davenport did not look as impressed as Dumbledore was, but Hermione could see that he was intrigued.

"That's quite some clever spellwork you've got there, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore, smiling cheerily at his young student. "People will find it nearly impossible to distinguish you from your male counterpart. The _Reverso Mortalis _spell worked great!"

"I must say that I'm quite impressed at how you managed to find a loophole in the ministry rules," said Davenport as he studied Hermione.

"It was all Professor Dumbledore's idea, Sir Davenport," said Hermione, beaming. "Although, you won't propose adding that spell in the magical community law, will you?" She added with some hesitancy.

"Not right now, Miss Granger, I won't," said Davenport, raising his eyebrows. "I have to give you two some credit for using a rather ancient and difficult spell, after all. However, you have to understand that such a rare collection of magical spells from olden Prague won't go unnoticed in the Wellber Council, well, at least after you're finished with the mission."

"I would be more than happy to share the book with the Council, Alexis," said Dumbledore.

"Thank you, Albus," Davenport addressed the old professor with a nod. He turned back to Hermione. "Now, Miss Granger, I advise that you plan more into your proposed set of actions so as to accomplish your goal with our charge, which is the infamous young Mr. Malfoy. Careful thinking is to be utmost observed. We cannot afford loss of secrecy in this mission. This decides your acceptance into the Wellber Council, after all."

"I understand the importance of the situation, sir," said Hermione, nodding. "I am now hunting for quite convenient opportunities to make my starting move with the mission. I promise I won't fail."

"Miss Granger, if you'd like, I'd be able to provide some more assistance with regards to the matter," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "If I'm correct, some of the members of the Slytherin Quidditch team have already graduated from Hogwarts last year. Professor Snape will bound to be holding a tryout sometime into the semester. You should think about applying for a position as Chaser. It will be a good way to get closer with Mr. Malfoy."

Hermione looked horrified with the suggestion the headmaster was making. Was he _crazy? _She hated Quidditch! "I-I don't quite think that'll be feasible, Professor," she said, eyes wide.

"Why not, Miss Granger?"

Hermione muttered something Dumbledore didn't quite catch.

"Pardon?"

"I... I hate flying," she whispered just a bit more louder for the headmaster to hear.

"Oh dear," said Dumbledore, chuckling at Hermione's confession. "I had quite forgotten your utter lack of interest for the sport, Miss Granger, forgive me. Well, I suppose you could find some other way to make friends with Mr. Malfoy, yes?" Hermione nodded fervently, relieved.

Davenport, however, did not find Hermione's disdain for Quidditch quite as amusing as Dumbledore did. "Headmaster, I do think that Miss Granger would be able to appreciate the sport better if she's had some training on it," he said. Hermione gaped at him, looking horrified again.

"S—sir Davenport—,"

"One of the most valuable skills of a Wellber Council member is his ability to fly well when Apparition and other forms of transport are not readily viable," said Davenport, raising an eyebrow at Hermione. "It is quite an effective way to avoid detection when a target place has some Apparition wards placed around it or when the Floo Networks are being monitored. Plus, I think I would be quite unbecoming for a potential Council member to back down at the mere mention of the sport Quidditch." He added, watching Hermione grow pale at his words.

Professor Dumbledore chuckled again.

"Unfortunately for you, Miss Granger, your Supervising Officer seems to be keen on training you on the art of flying," he said merrily at the ashen-faced young woman. "I personally think it's quite a good idea." He nodded at Davenport with a smile. "You're free to use the Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch for training if you want."

Hermione could not utter a single word. The two men were gazing expectantly at her as she grew paler and paler at the prospect of a Quidditch training. Never in her wildest nightmares did she imagine that one day she'll have to train for the blasted sport. And as a Slytherin Quidditch player for that matter.

"So, Miss Granger, we'll have your training at ten o'clock sharp in the Quidditch Pitch every day starting tomorrow," said Davenport, who was obviously enjoying her mortified expression. "Any thoughts on the matter?"

"N—none, sir," said Hermione faintly. She felt like crawling into a hole and dying. "I'll—I'll be there tomorrow. Th—thanks. I'll be going now..." She muttered her thank you to Dumbledore and stumbled out of the room, looking quite sick.

The headmaster watched the young witch as she went out and closed the door behind her. "Alexis, don't you think you're a bit too harsh on Miss Granger? You must be aware of the poor girl's blatant fear of flying."

"I know of that, Albus, and forcing her to learn Quidditch might be harsh on my part, but she has to learn to overcome her fears," said Davenport, sighing. "We both know from experience that a member of the Wellber Council cannot afford to fear anything in this world besides failing. It is a prerequisite to succeed. She needs to understand that."

"Indeed, you're right," said Dumbledore, shaking his head. "But I think you'd have to make yourself ready, Alexis."

"Why is that?"

"Because one of the things that nobody in Hogwarts has managed to make Miss Granger do is to force her to stay on a broom for at least ten seconds flat."

"Is that so?" Davenport looked concerned.

"Yes, because after she mounts a broom by herself, she's bound to fall headfirst onto the ground immediately afterwards."

--

**REVIEW PLEASE!**


	4. Tribulations of a Quidditch Chaser

**A.N. This is the last chapter I'm going to post for this one sitting. I'm gonna see if anybody likes the story before I continue. So please do review if you want to keep the story running! I promise it will become less Hermione-centric as the story progresses!!**

**blaine36**

--

Chapter 4 – Tribulations of a Quidditch Chaser-in-Training

"AAARGH!"

Hermione found herself sprawled face-first onto the ground after trying to mount one of the standard school brooms. Davenport winced at her fall, then strode over to where she was lying.

"You should try to grip the broom a bit more tightly, Miss Granger," said Davenport as he stared at her bushy brown mane. "Your tendency to lean forward after your first six feet of rise makes the broom tip on one side and you to fall over. You should use your hands to force yourself to stay on the broom at that situation."

Noises issued from Hermione's twitching physique on the ground. She was obviously trying to speak but her words were swallowed by the grass lawn.

"I'm sorry?"

"I said, my hands are so slippery that they can't grip the broom properly," she said as pushed herself up to a sitting position, her brown hair sticking out in various places and her nose splotched with mud.

"I imagine they would be, since you're sweating so much," said Davenport, raising his eyebrows.

"Of course I'm sweating! I'm afraid of heights!" She yelled, obviously too nervous and miffed to care that the one she's shouting to was the head Unspeakable of the Department of Mysteries.

"Temper, Miss Granger," said Davenport smoothly, reminding her of her manners. Hermione blushed in shame. Davenport sighed and reached his hands into his pockets, pulling out a pair of Quidditch gloves and handing them to his young charge.

"Put them on," he ordered her. "You'll find that you'll be able to grip the broom much easier with those."

"Th—thank you, sir," she muttered, pulling the gloves on her shaky hands. Once she was done, she gave a determined sigh and mounted the broom again. This time she managed to stay ten-feet in midair without falling over, much to her and Davenport's relief.

"I—I did it, I'm flying!" She yelled happily, not noticing that, in midst of her celebration, she lost her grip on the broom and she found herself tipping over sideways, falling onto the ground again with a loud _thud._

"Oww..." she moaned as she wriggled on the grass in pain.

"Miss Granger, an inexperienced flyer such as yourself is not encouraged to do victory dances while you're on your broom in midair," said Davenport as he helped her up. "Dangerous and foolish acts such as that result in accidents like what you just had."

"I'm sorry," Hermione muttered. "I—I just got carried away."

"Don't let emotions take over next time, then," Davenport snapped. A vein twisted in his temple. "I think, Miss Granger, that a few basic exercises will do you a world of good. Until you can fly around without tipping your broom over or falling sideways onto the ground, you have to stay twenty feet above ground level for at least thirty minutes, two to three times a day. I'll be watching you just so to make sure you won't break your neck or do something foolish like that. Understood?"

"Y—yes sir."

"Alright, you can start right at this very moment, then."

--

For one whole month Hermione did nothing but train and train and train much more for Quidditch. After the first five days she managed to keep herself afloat and fly around the pitch without fainting and falling onto the ground, thanks to Alexis Davenport's hard-broiled training strategies. The rest of the time she had to chase the snitch around and catch it, without much success (_How Harry managed to get his hands on the bloody little blighter I'll never know_, she thought), try to shoot the heavy Quaffle through the hoops (this time, after much practice, she managed to shoot more than five times, much to her delight), and avoid the incessant zooming bludgers around the pitch with her clumsily executed loops and feints. All in all, Hermione thought she was doing quite well with her nonexistent Quidditch skill, but Davenport was still not impressed.

"We only have another week until your term starts, Miss Granger," he said, sighing and sitting down on the bench after Hermione landed in front of him. "You have been doing alright, but your current skill level will not merit a position in the Quidditch team at this point. There's bound to be much more talented lads in the Slytherin house than you, and they will get the position if you can't raise your skills for another two or so levels. You'll have to train harder."

"I know that, Sir, but I don't think my actual skill for Quidditch will manage to get me into the team," said Hermione, looking worried. "This might be as far as I can go when it comes to magical sports."

"It puzzles me that you can be determined when it comes to other things but not in Quidditch," said Davenport, raising his eyebrows at Hermione. "You should put that unsurpassed determination of yours to good use and try to make this your favourite sport. You don't have a choice."

Hermione sighed. "I'll do what I can, sir."

"You should. Your acceptance into the Council depends on this mission," said Davenport. He stood up. "Well, that concludes your training for today, Miss Granger. Meet me here tomorrow at the same time."

"Yes, sir."

"But don't wear your Quidditch gear. We'll be going to Diagon Alley tomorrow."

"What are we going to do there?" Hermione was puzzled.

"I'll help you select a Quidditch broom," said Davenport. "I think you'd do better with your own than with these botchy old Shooting Stars here."

"O—oh, yeah," said Hermione, nodding. "But am I good enough to buy a broom?"

"If it'll help you train better, then I think it's wiser to have a broom of your own."

He bid Hermione goodbye and marched off inside the castle. She watched the man leave feeling quite strange at the fact that she was going to have a broom. _Her own broom._

Harry and Ron, if ever they know about this, are going to have a field day.

--

Hermione still haven't gotten rid of that weird feeling as she and Sir Davenport walked the streets of Diagon Alley together. In fact, it only intensified as they approached the huge sign bearing the words _Quality Quidditch Supplies_ near the end of the alley. She still could not believe she's buying a broom for herself.

They entered the shop, Davenport going straight to speak with the clerk while Hermione lingered back, looking quite lost in the sea of Quidditch brooms and paraphernalia.

Davenport talked with a clerk for a few moments before motioning for Hermione to come over to him. She walked to them and the clerk invited them to the back part of the store.

"Our broom collection is at the back," said the clerk. "We can find the perfect broom for your student if you'd follow me."

He led them through racks and racks of broomsticks, each with different shades of brown and black, with various insignias imprinted on their handles (_Who could've thought I'd notice the difference between two brooms?_ Hermione thought to herself as she looked around). They stopped near the back of the warehouse, and the clerk turned to address them again.

"Her physique is quite slight and I don't think she'd be able to support those heavy broomsticks most players use," said the clerk. "I think she'd do well with a Nimbus 2001. It's light enough for her to zoom around with, but it'll be able to carry her too."

"Is a Nimbus alright with you?" Davenport turned to speak to Hermione, who looked quite confused.

"W—well, I remember that's the broom the Slytherin Quidditch team uses," she whispered to Davenport. "I suppose it's a good broom, but I have to admit that I don't know one thing about this stuff."

"Alright," said Davenport, turning back to the clerk. "A Nimbus it is, then."

The clerk nodded and took a black broomstick with a silvery label that read _Nimbus 2001 _on it's handle. He wrapped it with paper and led the two out back into the front part of the shop, where they handled the monetary transaction.

"A hundred galleons for the Nimbus," he said, staring at them expectantly.

Hermione's eyes widened at the price. She groped for her moneybag a little awkwardly.

"Err..."

"Here," Davenport dropped a rather heavy moneybag onto the counter. The clerk took the bag and gave them the broom. Davenport motioned for Hermione to take it, and she took it in her hands, feeling overwhelmed at the sight of her own broom in her clasp. And a Nimbus 2001 at that.

She tore her eyes from the broomstick and looked up at her supervising officer. "Sir Davenport," she said a little shyly. "Thank you for this. You didn't have to pay for me, though."

He only nodded at her. "It's my responsibility to pay, Miss Granger. I'm the one who insisted you train, after all." With that, he led the way outside the shop, and Hermione followed suit.

But before they could go out the shop door opened with a merry twinkle and two young men marched in, talking animatedly.

She gasped.

They heard her voice and looked up at her in surprise.

"H-Hermione?" Harry and Ron said simultaneously, jaws dropping.

--

**REVIEW PLEASE!**


	5. Ferret and Friends

**A.N. Another installment! Please do review review review...**

--

Chapter 4 – Ferret and Friends

_Oh gods, _Hermione thought. _Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods, oh gods!_

"Hermione?" Harry, unlike Ron, had finally recovered from the initial shock of seeing Hermione in a Quidditch shop _and_ holding a broom and had managed to close his gaping mouth. He studied her with widened eyes, going from her broom to the tall intimidating man beside her who was Alexis Davenport. He didn't know who he was but was puzzled all the same. "What are you doing here? Is—is that a broom?"

Hermione did not know what to say. She just stared at her two best friends. Davenport chose that moment to speak.

"Miss Granger, thank you for accompanying me to the Quidditch shop," he said smiling at her. She stared at his complete reversal of character and was unable to produce any reaction to his statement of gratitude. He took the broomstick from her grasp. "I wouldn't burden you with this now, since I see you have your friends with you. I'll see you in another time, yes?"

"Um... Y—yes sir, I'll see you around," she watched him walk out of the shop, leaving her with Harry and Ron to formulate a story of her own.

"Mind telling us about that, Hermione?" Harry asked her. She snapped her head back to him, still overwhelmed at the sudden turn of events.

"Well... Well I..." Hermione did not know what to tell them. She sighed. "That was Professor Davenport. He's one of my advanced study tutors this summer. He prepares me for my NEWTS"

"Whoa," said Ron, who finally closed his mouth after hearing her story. "I didn't think you'd be that serious about studying, Hermione. You even hired a tutor to guide you."

"Well, if you're studying, why are you here at the Quidditch shop then?" Harry asked, still confused. "You never told us you'd be shopping for supplies.

"No, I'm not, actually," said Hermione. "Professor and I just finished our study session and he told me he was going to buy his nephew a Quidditch broom. I offered to accompany him here and he accepted. That's why you saw me here." She shrugged, looking nonchalant, but inside she was dead nervous. Harry, much to her relief, seemed to accept her story and nodded.

"So you'd be able to hang around with us then?" He asked.

"Yeah, sure," said Hermione, smiling at him, relieved.

"Aren't you going to stay over at the Burrow for the remainder of the week, 'Mione?" Ron piped up as they walked out of the shop together. "That way all of us can buy our supplies at the same time and we can hang out in the house."

"No, I'm sorry, Ron," Hermione said, trying to sound sincere. "My grandparents are over at the house this week. I can't just leave. I'd be able to shop for supplies with you though," she said, grinning.

"Oh... I suppose that's fine..." Ron sounded disappointed.

"I'm really sorry," said Hermione.

They exited the shop, the two boys' Quidditch browsing forgotten, and proceeded to walk around Diagon Alley and catch up with each other's lives. Ron and Harry happily provided information about the events that transpired during their stay at the Burrow, but Hermione preferred to stay silent about her own misadventures. She just nodded and provided sufficient replies in all the right places, laughing every now and then at their jokes. They continued chatting as they marched near Gringotts. Hermione's eyes were wandering around while the two boys talked, observing the busy people walking around them. The brown orbs widened as she saw a streak of blond hair stalking towards the direction of Knockturn Alley.

"Malfoy," she whispered, her eyebrows furrowing.

"...But Fred tripped over George's foot and fell face-first onto Fleur's skirt! It was extremely funny how purple Bill's face became— Ow! What the hell's that for, Harry?!" Ron stopped in mid-sentence as Harry elbowed him on the ribs and gestured towards their best friend who stood still at the middle of the street and gazed off into the gloom, looking quite serious.

"Er, Hermione?" Harry began hesitantly. "Are you okay?"

"Wh-what?" She broke off from her trance and suddenly became aware of her best friends' presence again. "Oh, sorry about that, I was just thinking. Erm, listen, Harry, Ron, would it be okay if I go to the loo for a bit? My bladder's about to burst." She made a show of standing from one foot to another to convince them.

"We'll come with you," Ron offered.

"Nonsense, of course you can't come with me to the girl's loo, Ron," Hermione said, as if he was an annoying five-year old. "I'll be back in a few!" She marched away from them to the back of Gringotts, making sure they lost sight of her before casting a Disillusionment charm on herself and running off to where Draco Malfoy went.

She could no longer catch a glimpse of his blond hair at the streets of Knockturn Alley, so she proceeded to look in the shops instead. The ever infamous Borgin and Burkes was open for business, so she decided to have a peek through the window. Sure enough, the Malfoy heir was their, looking quite cocky amidst the sea of Dark Magic items that was sold in the shop.

She cast a silencing charm on the bell before opening the door carefully and tiptoeing inside the shop, wary of any disturbance she might cause. Taking a secure place beside a glass cabinet, she listened intently to his and Borgin's conversation.

"I need to have it made by then," whispered Malfoy hurriedly as he fumbled around with his pockets, obviously nervous.

"I'm not sure if I can work that fast, Mr. Malfoy," said Borgin, who looked quite anxious himself. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes, what I asked of you is extremely important," said Malfoy. "I'll be caught if I don't have it by that time. The Dark Lord is starting to become impatient of me."

_Well, well! _Hermione thought as she listened. _Looks like young Mr. Malfoy is either a fully fledged Death Eater or is just becoming one! Either way, he's headed to Azkaban for sure._

"But the things that I need to complete it," said Borgin, "are extremely hard to procure. I need your assistance in providing them, Mr. Malfoy. If you'd allow me, your manor is quite an infamous site for such materials."

"I happen to agree with you, Borgin," said Malfoy, sighing and looking, for once, quite troubled? Hermione was surprised that he had the capacity to worry about things like a normal human being. "Well, then, I'll see what I can do to help. I'll be back tomorrow." He pulled out his wand, nodding slightly at Borgin's mutterings of farewell, and walking out of the door before disappearing after a loud _CRACK! _and a spin.

Hermione was revelling at the information she had obtained. _Imagine how this would count as an extremely suitable evidence! _She thought to herself, smiling triumphantly. However, she was also quite intrigued at whatever Malfoy was having Borgin make for him. Judging by their conversation, the thing seemed to be invaluable to whatever his cause was as a Death Eater. Hermione knew she would have to further investigate.

At her excitement, she accidentally bumped into a table and caused it to scrape quite loudly on the floor, some of its rather precarious contents rolling down to the ground and smashing into smithereens. Borgin's eyes, as well as Hermione's, widened at the sudden noise and it made him whip out his wand, taking a cautious stance and pointing it at the general direction of the offending table.

"Who's there!?" He yelled, eyes popping in agitation and fury.

Hermione didn't answer but of course made a run for it, almost tripping over the broken glass and zipping out of the shop door and onto the gloomy streets of Knockturn Alley, not stopping until she reached the familiar busy grounds of Gringotts, where she saw Ron and Harry standing on a corner and looking quite worried.

She took a deep breath and removed the Disillusionment charm from her body before walking towards them, looking chipper.

"I'm done!" She said happily as she approached the two.

"About time!" Ron said. "What've you been doing at the loo, anyway? You were gone for more than twenty minutes!"

"Just twenty minutes," said Hermione dismissively. "I had to take care of some stuff. Well, why don't we have lunch over at the Leaky Cauldron? My treat!" She led the bewildered men towards the main street, her mind buzzing with the information and revelations she had just come across.

Her two best friends followed her, but not without hesitancy and puzzlement, as they rarely saw Hermione act like that. A dismissive and silent Hermione reminded them of the time when she had been messing around her classes with a time-turner back in 3rd year. And back then she had kept the magical device a secret from them. Was she keeping a secret now, too?

Oh well, if only they knew.

--

**REVIEW PLEASE!**


	6. The Inner Workings of A Ferret's Mind

**A.N. Chapter 6 up! I hope you like it!!!**

--

Chapter 6 – The Inner Workings of a Ferret's Mind

"That is quite a nice bit of information you've got there, Miss Granger," said Sir Davenport approvingly as he stopped performing Legilimency on Hermione's mind. She beamed at him, pleased at his remark. "However, the event that transpired afterwards was quite unnecessary, don't you think? Even though Mr. Borgin did not see you, he will still be cautious with his next meetings with Mr. Malfoy, and I quite expect him to warn our charge about some eavesdropping that's bound to happen when they talk. You'd best be aware that your investigation will prove to be more difficult."

Hermione's face fell at that, and she sighed. "I'm sorry, Sir. I had been too careless. I'll make up for my mistakes though, for I've got a lead on my investigation now."

"Carelessness is a trait that should be removed immediately if you desire to be a member of the Council, Miss Granger," said Davenport sagely. Hermione looked down, ashamed. "You never know what it might cost you. At many times it will be your life, or even others'."

"I know that," she said, feeling lower and lower by the minute. "I'm really sorry."

"Well, nevertheless, I congratulate you on your new lead," said Davenport, changing tactics. "You should use your information to further your investigation on Mr. Malfoy. However, please do not ignore your Quidditch training, especially not now that I've got you a broom. You want to enter the Slytherin Quidditch team, so practice harder."

Hermione, whose body was dripping in mud from their earlier Quidditch training that had commenced while it was raining in the pitch, wondered if her practice could get any more difficult than it was now.

"Well, sir, if you don't mind me asking, the start of the term is less than a week from now, right? So, will we be continuing my training during my school days at Hogwarts?" She asked him. _Please, don't say we will. I want to at least have time for studying._

"Of course we will," said Davenport, raising his eyebrows. "Albus has provided me a position as your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for this term, so I daresay we'll have more than enough time to meet and continue with your training. It would be quite a convenient arrangement, that way I'll be able to perform my job as your supervisory officer better."

Hermione was surprised. "But, Sir, won't that interfere with your work as Department Head?"

"At the Ministry, we Wellber Council members are instructed to always put our investigative work first and foremost. Any Council business is top priority for us, even if its just for training rookie members like you." Davenport looked to see if this answered her question, but Hermione still did not look convinced. "Well, if your worried about the Department of Mysteries, please be assured that I have enough brilliant and reliable officers that are willing to fill in for my absence. Do not trouble yourself with such matters."

"Oh," said Hermione, feeling quite lucky that an Unspeakable, especially an experienced and extremely decorated one like Sir Alexis Davenport, was going to teach them Defence. They had a few notable teachers in their time, like Remus Lupin and Alastor Moody, but one like Davenport was hard to find.

"Well, anyway," said Davenport as he looked at the watch on his wrist. "This concludes our meeting, since I am to be at the Ministry around twenty minutes from now. Think on your plans with Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger."

"I will, Sir, thank you," she said, and bid her leave.

--

All the running around and arranging things had left Draco too tired to even have dinner that night. He sat on the armchair near the fireplace in his room, sighing and leaning his head back on the cushion. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to relax.

But he couldn't.

Well, after all, who could? Especially when you're just two weeks from receiving the ever infamous Mark from the Dark Lord.

He rolled up the sleeves from his arm and stared at it, as if trying to imprint the image of bare skin on his mind, since he's going to miss it when he gets that mark.

Don't think that he's not pleased with the arrangement though. Don't get me wrong. Draco Malfoy was incredibly pleased. So pleased, in fact, that he agreed to the party that Narcissa Malfoy had wanted to hold in honour of his upcoming Death Eater-ship. He was pleased that he finally got to be in the ranks of his father, and that he will be safe from all the destruction that's bound to happen when his Master gets his bony little hands around the whole of the Wizarding world, which is getting a little bit closer by now. He's going to be the richest of all purebloods, and evidently the Dark Lord had promised that there will be no more mudbloods by the time he's done with his plans, and those things he was looking forward to the most.

However, as pleased as he is, he was not proud.

Who would be proud? A Dark Mark on your forearm meant that you've associated with the darkest of all wizards, the incredibly notorious and fearsome Lord Voldemort. As much as his Slytherin friends respected him for being one of the Dark Lord's most prized rookies, he was still sure that they regarded him with shame, too. All the blood spill that was going to commence, all the weird rituals, and the low regard that most of the Wizarding society had for Death Eaters like what he's going to be, that had marred their judgement and kind of made them nervous about associating with him.

Hmph. As if he's gonna turn around suddenly and curse them behind their backs. Even _he's_ not that sneaky.

Another thing, he's sure that almost all of the Hogwarts population expect him and his merry batch of followers to become Death Eaters one day. Well, he really is gonna be one, but it's not like he's gonna parade it around and watch the other kids cringe away from him as if he's got a venereal disease. Hey, even Malfoys need friends, after all. Especially him. He strove on those kind of stuff. As Draco Malfoy, he was proud of being a full-fledged attention seeker.

He just didn't like the attention if it meant that they're talking about him torturing mudbloods and killing innocent babies. He's gonna be _hated._

He values his life, thank you very much!

And so, that past Thursday, an incredibly harassed Draco Malfoy made his way to Borgin and Burkes, carrying a heavy moneybag along with the silver ring amulet that he had nicked from the family treasury. He dropped the stuff in front of a very confused Mr. Borgin and promptly told him to make him a special Shield Charm that can block any intruding magic from any outside source from entering his system. Draco had decided that the Charm will become very handy when the Dark Lord marks him with his infamous tattoo. The aim of the amulet was to make it appear as if the Mark was actually being imprinted to his forearm, but in reality it was just becoming a mere tattoo and was not going to have any magical effect on him whatsoever. That way, he can benefit from the Dark Lord's pleasure at his loyalty as a Death Eater, but be able to live proudly as an upstanding citizen in the magical society, without ever having to fear being hated, shunned and hunted down because of his associations with Lord Voldemort.

To Draco Malfoy, his plan made perfect sense.

However, Mr. Borgin had been rightfully hesitant of accepting the job, even with the temptation of fifty thousand galleons backing it up. He knew as well as Draco did that not only was the Charm incredibly hard to complete, it was also a very risky job since it involves having to run around finding the elusive batch of materials needed to make the amulet, and dodging any suspicious questions from both the good Wizarding society and the Dark Lord himself. Imagine having a neutral, self-serving cause while in midst of a raging war between Good and Evil, and trying to please both sides to gain said cause.

That was exactly what Mr. Borgin and Draco Malfoy was aiming for.

And let me tell you, that wasn't a very easy thing indeed.

And so, that brings me back to why Draco was sitting on the regal armchair beside the fireplace in his room, trying to relax and rid his mind of any stressful thoughts that came with regards to his current predicament.

He was trying to sleep then, letting the warmth of the fireplace and the silence of the room course through his veins and lull him to a much needed drowse.

Oh, well, scratch that, since the room had suddenly turned cold anyway and the fireplace began spitting out bits of flaming coal, some of it landing on Draco's robes and shocking him on contact.

His eyes flew open and he sat up straight, looking around the room for the source of disturbance.

There, in the middle of the burning fireplace, sat the extremely agitated face of Mr. Borgin.

"Mr. Borgin!" Draco exclaimed, shocked. "What in Merlin's name are you flooing me for? And how were you able to get past the wards?"

"Never mind that," said Borgin impatiently. "I've come to warn you, Mr. Malfoy. Apparently somebody had been eavesdropping on our conversation at my shop earlier."

"WHAT?" Draco was shocked. He had been very careful about covering up his tracks these past few days! _Oh god, if Dumbledore came to know about this, or even worse, the Dark Lord...! _"But that's impossible! I've told no one about this job I had you do!"

"Well, maybe somebody saw you making your way to my shop," said Mr. Borgin, looking quite unimpressed at the fact that Draco thought his plans were foolproof. "You're not that unnoticeable, after all, Mr. Malfoy."

"Merlin," muttered Draco, running a hand through his hair. "How did you come to know about this, Borgin? Did you see the intruder's face?"

"No, I didn't," Borgin admitted, sighing. "My guess was either he's wearing an Invisibility cloak or casting a Disillusionment spell on himself. But he knocked into my display table and sent some of my more precious trinkets rolling on the floor. That's how I was alerted of his presence. He got away before I could catch him, though."

"Who could be so—wait! Potter!" Draco's eyes lit up at the sudden realization. Of course it was Potter! He was the only person he knew that had an invisibility cloak! And, after all, this wasn't the first time that boy had tailed after him. The stupid scarhead apparently thought he was up to something and followed him into Borgin and Burkes.

"Potter?" Borgin repeated cynically. "You mean the famous Harry Potter? Why would he be in my shop in the first place?"

"Who knows? That Potter likes stalking me, apparently," said Draco, as if the fact was very obvious. "This isn't the first time he got under that damned invisibility cloak and followed me around. That intruder's got to be him."

Borgin looked nervous at that. "Then you must act fast, Mr. Malfoy. That Potter kid has been the Ministry's golden boy lately. He might tell on us, if you're not careful."

"Oh, bloody hell," said Draco. "I know that already, Borgin. I think I might pay him a visit."

"Do you know where he lives?"

"No," Draco admitted. "But I have this nasty little hunch that he may possibly be staying over at the Weasleys' filthy little Burrow right now."

--

"You beat me again, Ron!" Harry whined as his chest pieces were wiped out of the board. His best mate grinned at him triumphantly.

"Of course I did," the redhead said smugly. "I'm good at this! Aren't I, Gin?"

"Whatever bro," said Ginny from the corner. "Merlin knows Wizarding Chess is the only thing your better than Harry at."

"Well, that and being a Prefect," said Harry, grinning.

"Nah, that's already obliterated, since you're Quidditch captain, and a pretty good one at that," said Ginny, winking at Harry, who blushed.

"You guys," said Ron sulkily. "Just because Hermione isn't here, you two combine forces and try to pick a fight with me like she always does."

"And I have to admit, we can't bicker with you like Hermione does, too," said Ginny, walking over to his glum brother. "Oh, Ronald, admit that you miss her already! This might be the first time in a few years that she hasn't spent the summer with us! Even I miss having her bunk with me."

"Which reminds me," said Harry. "Didn't we see Hermione at Diagon Alley a while ago, Ron?" said Harry thoughtfully.

"Yeah, we did," said Ron. "And, mind you, she's acting pretty strange then, too."

"You guys bumped into Hermione and didn't tell me about it immediately?!" Ginny said indignantly. "How could you!"

"Sorry, Gin, it's just that we didn't have the time a while ago," said Harry apologetically. "Anyway, get this, we saw Hermione inside a Quidditch shop, would you believe?"

"I was shocked at first," said Ron. "But then she said that she was just accompanying her NEWTS professor there. I mean, who would think Hermione would voluntarily come inside a Quidditch shop?"

"Is that the strange behaviour you guys were talking about? Well, yeah, that's strange, but that still doesn't explain why she didn't stay over with us during the summer holidays when you did, Harry." Ginny looked unconvinced.

"Well, we asked her that, but the only thing she said was that she got relatives over or something like that," said Harry. "We asked her to come with us and stay over for the last few days, but she declined. Ickle Ronniekins over here was disappointed."

"Oy, you weren't feeling grand about that, either," Ron said defensively, his ears turning red. Then he looked like he remembered something. "But, hey, Harry, did you notice how strange Hermione acted? I mean, she took that twenty minute bathroom break then she acted like back in third year when she had been using the time turner and was hiding it from us. Don't you think she's keeping a secret?"

Harry scratched his head thoughtfully at that. "I know, Ron. She's being a bit too discreet lately. And the fact that she declined spending summer over with us makes it even more suspicious."

Ginny looked like she shared the exact same feeling. "I'm starting to get concerned. You guys are complete twerps. You should've seen her home, you know."

"We tried to," said Ron, frustrated. "But she told us she can take care of herself, then promptly vanished afterward, as if she couldn't wait to get home. She's definitely hiding something from us, Harry! I can't stand it!"

"We should confront her once term starts," said Harry, thinking deeply. "Maybe she'll tell us the truth then."

"Yeah we should," said Ron, nodding.

"Boys?" Mrs. Weasley's head appeared from the door. "I heard a loud crash over at the broom shed. Would you please kindly look over there for me?"

"Probably just one of the Christmas sleds toppling over," Ron mumbled once his mother was out of earshot. "Listen, Harry, go on without me. I gotta go to the loo. Be at the broom shed in a minute."

"Alright," said Harry, before leaving through the back door to the small shack that sat at the back of the Burrow. Walking over to it, he thought he heard some noises from inside.

His burrows narrowed suspiciously, so he took out his wand and marched cautiously over to the broom shed. Whispering _Alohomora _to the lock, he gently pushed it open, but not without muttering _Lumos _and lighting up his wand.

He relaxed as he performed a check around the place and came up with zero negative responses. Sighing, he tucked his wand back in his pocket and proceeded to walk over to the sleds.

As soon as he was fully inside the broom shed, the door banged close, and Harry could hear the distinct sound of the latch being locked.

He whipped around, wand at ready, and saw, to his great shock, the face of Draco Malfoy staring back at him with daunting malice.

"M—Malfoy?! What the bloody hell are you—,"

"_Obliviate!"_

_--_

**REVIEW PLEASE!**


	7. You Can Never Deny Friends

Chapter 7 – You Can Never Deny Friends

Five minutes was all Ron needed to finish his business in the loo. Whistling loudly, he marched outside the house to join Harry in the broom shed, intending to talk with him about Hermione and her strange behaviour as of late.

As he walked over to the small shack, thought he heard a faint _Crack! _like someone would make when they Apparate. Growing worried, he ran to the shed and tried to push the door open.

"Harry!"

But the door was locked. Cursing, he pulled out his wand and muttered _Alohomora, _unlocking the latch and stepping inside to see his best friend gazing at him with a completely lost look on his face.

"R-Ron?"

"Harry," Ron said, lighting up his wand to gain a clearer look at his face. He could see his green eyes narrow in confusion, as if trying to remember something, but couldn't.

"Strange," Harry muttered. "All I remember was sleeping in your room upstairs, but here I am in the shed. Did I sleepwalk, Ron?"

"No you didn't," said Ron, alarmed. "Listen, Harry, did anybody come here a while ago? I thought I heard someone Disapparate."

"I—I honestly don't know," said Harry, scratching his head. "Are you sure I didn't sleepwalk, Ron? I certainly don't remember going down to the shed."

"You don't remember?" Ron asked. "How about a while ago at Diagon Alley, Harry? Do you remember meeting Hermione?"

"We didn't go to Diagon Alley today, Ron," said Harry matter-of-factly. "But I can remember us planning to go tomorrow."

"Wh—wha—, wait, Harry, what do you remember about today?"

"Well, we played Quidditch with Ginny a while ago didn't we?" Harry said, giving him a strange look. "Or did you forget?"

"Bloody Merlin," Ron swore. "Harry, I think you're Obliviated!"

--

Hermione frowned as she saw Pig swoop in through her window, carrying a letter. _I hope Ron doesn't try to make me stay at the Burrow for the next few days, _she thought as she took the scroll and fed the tiny owl a few treats. _I have enough problems as it is._

She undid the seal and read the letter. Her eyes grew wide with shock.

_Hermione,_

_I don't know what you're doing now or where you are, but please come over to the Burrow. I think Harry's been Obliviated. I don't wanna tell Mum and Ginny about it, but I think you need to know. I need your help._

_Be quick,_

_Ron_

The put the scroll down on the desk, her worry about Harry's condition growing stronger and stronger by the minute. She grabbed her wand and Apparated over to the Burrow.

As soon as she arrived at the front porch, she ran to the door and rapped hard on it.

She thought she heard footsteps from inside and the door was opened, revealing an extremely worried-looking Ron, who instantly became relieved at the sight of her.

"I came as soon as I can," said Hermione breathlessly.

"Thank Merlin," said Ron, putting a hand on her shoulder and pushing her inside, closing the door behind her.

"How's Harry?" She asked as she turned around and looked at him.

"He's fine. He's upstairs feeling generally confused at his lack of memories. Ginny asked him about our meeting with you at Diagon Alley this afternoon and the poor bloke's thoroughly bewildered as to how he managed to forget something like that." Ron looked terribly concerned at the situation. "You know what, 'Mione, I think somebody Apparated into the shed a while ago and Obliviated Harry. I don't know why he did that anyway, but I know we have to be careful."

"Oh Ron," said Hermione, and flung her arms around her best friend. "I'm worried about you guys! Oh dear, I knew I should've stayed over this summer! This shouldn't have happened!"

"Relax, Hermione," said Ron, looking a bit flustered and his ears turning red, but he wrapped his arms around her all the same. "It was just a day's worth of memories. I've checked."

"I know, but I still worry," said Hermione, sniffling.

"Does this mean you'll be staying over with us for the remainder of the holidays?" Ron asked hopefully as Hermione buried her head in his chest.

"Of course I will," said Hermione, completely forgetting about her meeting with Sir Davenport tomorrow. "I don't think I can ever leave you guys alone now."

"Great!" Ron said, a tad bit too happily, then caught himself. "I mean, it would be better since there'll be more people to keep an eye on Harry."

Hermione extricated herself from Ron's embrace and walked with him up the stairs to his room, where Harry was currently situated. They opened the door and found their poor best-friend sitting on Ron's cot, looking completely confused.

"Harry!" Hermione rushed over to him and enveloped him in a hug, too. Harry looked surprised at her sudden action but recovered and smiled, wrapping his arms around her.

"Hey there, 'Mione," said Harry. "I've made you worry."

"You're Obliviated," said Hermione. "Of course I'd be worried!"

"But, you know, I'm kind of confused as to why someone would Obliviate me," said Harry, scratching his head. "I mean, according to Ron, I only got a day's worth of memories removed, so that means I might've heard or seen something a while ago. Is that right?"

"Where have you been a while ago, anyway?" Hermione asked.

Harry looked to Ron for support. "Well, the only place Harry's been to this day was here at the Burrow and at Diagon Alley. I would've known if he'd seen something weird, because I was with him all the time," said Ron.

"Oh..." said Hermione, thinking deeply. Then something clicked into place. "Oh!" She stood up.

"What is it? Did you figure out something?" Ron asked her.

_Oh no, Borgin must've ratted on to Malfoy, then he must've assumed that Harry was the one who followed him into Knockturn Alley, since he's the one with the invisibility cloak! _"W—well, I just thought that Harry might've seen something at Diagon Alley but didn't point that out to you," she lied to Ron, who looked doubtful.

"That's highly unlikely. I mean, Harry would've told me if he saw anything important, right?" He turned to Harry, who nodded vigorously.

"Yeah, I would've," said Harry.

"Which brings us back to square one," said Ron. "I really don't get this."

"You know, guys, I think I should go to the loo for a while," said Hermione. "I'll be back in a minute."

"Okay," said Ron, looking confused. "We'll wait for you here."

"Alright," said Hermione, hurriedly leaving the door and walking over to the bathroom, closing the door behind her and taking a deep breath. "Oh dear, oh dear. Thank goodness! That was close!" _Thank goodness Malfoy suspected Harry and not me! This might be totally selfish, but I'm really thankful. It was just a day's worth of memories, anyway._

"I have to report to Sir Davenport about it tomorrow," she muttered. Then remembered something. "Oh no, I told Ron I'm going to stay but I totally forgot about my daily meetings with Sir Davenport! How do I keep this a secret?"

She rubbed her temples as a headache made itself known.

--

"What? You're leaving today?"

Hermione sighed exasperatedly as Ron stared at her, eyebrows raised up to the heavens. "Yes, Ron, I'm leaving. I have to go home and get my clothes so I'll be able to live here for the remaining days of the vacation, and I also have to attend a meeting with my NEWTS tutor. I trust you guys can take care of poor Obliviated Harry while I'm gone?"

"Hey!" Harry said indignantly from one side of the table. "I'm not confused anymore! I can take care of myself!"

"Of course you can, Harry dear," said Hermione patronizingly. He glared at her. She just ignored him and turned to Ron. "Don't be such a dad, Ron, I'll be fine. My parents, however, are not. They may be worried sick. I have to go and inform them of the sudden arrangements."

"C'mon, Ron, let Hermione be," said Ginny, although there was a slight twinkle in her eye that indicated she knew why Ron was acting so anal about his best friend's sudden announcement of departure. "She needs to take care of her own business too. Her world doesn't revolve around you two, you know."

"I didn't say anything like that," Ron mumbled as Hermione snapped her hands at Ginny and nodded in agreement. "Alright, fine! Just be careful and be home as soon as you can."

"Yes, father," said Hermione mock-seriously. Harry and Ginny snickered. Ron glared.

"Well, seeing as we've got the issue settled, I'll be going now." Hermione stood up, dabbing her mouth with a napkin. "You guys take care of yourselves."

"Yeah, see ya," said Ginny with a smile. Hermione waved at them and left the kitchen, exiting the Burrow and walking over to the grassy lawn outside. She Apparated over to Hogsmeade, catching the thestral-drawn carriages that the students ride to Hogwarts. As soon as she was at the school, she made her way to the Quidditch pitch, where Sir Davenport was currently situated.

"Are you ready to start your training for today, Miss Granger?" He asked upon her arrival. "Where are your broomstick and gear, by the way?" His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he saw her muggle clothing.

"There has been a development last night, sir," said Hermione, not wasting time. "Harry Potter has been Obliviated."

Davenport's eyebrows shot high into the air. "That is quite an alarming news, Miss Granger."

"Yes it is, and I have this strong feeling that it was Malfoy that Obliviated him," said Hermione.

"That's a strong accusation."

"It's just a hunch. Harry just got a day's worth of memories removed, which means whatever the attacker wanted him to forget happened yesterday. Ron was with Harry all the time, so he would've known if something important happened, but aside from going to Diagon Alley and meeting me at the Quidditch shop, nothing happened, according to them. My guess is that Malfoy knew about Harry's invisibility cloak and suspected him of stalking him to Borgin and Burkes. After all, Harry did follow Malfoy under his cloak during third year."

Davenport nodded, Hermione's explanation making sense to him. "I see. It's not a sure fact, but I do think you are safe for now. Mr. Malfoy has put the blame on the wrong person. Not much damage has been done, I assume?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "Harry is pretty much fine for now, but he and Ron wants me to stay over at the Burrow, just so the three of us can be careful. I personally want to keep an eye on Harry, anyway, so I agreed. Is that alright, sir?" She looked up at him hopefully.

"As long as your stay in the Burrow does not interfere with your training, I'm alright with it," said Davenport. "But please try to concentrate with your work."

"Thank you, sir, I will," said Hermione.

"Well, then, I think it's for the best that you take a leave for today, Miss Granger," said Davenport while checking his watch. "Take care of your business and shop for your supplies, do what you have to do, since I have this feeling that we will be extremely busy till the end of the term. We do not want anybody getting Obliviated at your expense anymore. I'll go and have a talk with Albus about this."

Hermione had the grace to look embarrassed. "Of—of course, Sir, I'm sorry. I'll see you tomorrow, then."

--

_and that concludes this chapter. tell me what you think and i'll give you the next one! :D_

_blaine 36  
_


End file.
